Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
His hand rested on Randy's thigh and his lips ghosted over Randy's crotch of the tights. A chill ran down Randy's spine, as he felt his opponent's warm breath against his abs.
No.
He couldn't fantasize about him right now. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Exhaling after a second he grabbed his opponent's head and yanked him up to his feet. He made sure to hide all the emotions which flowed through his body before he opened his eyes and jumping up in the air and hitting a RKO on the other man. He watched the man on the floor before going for the pin.
One, two, three... the bell rang and The Viper stood giving his hand to the referee who raised it, stating that he was the winner of the match. Sighing and trying to suppress the urge to check on the unconscious man, he exited the ring and made his way to the backstage. But as the urge became stronger, he wasn't able to control his own body. He felt it turn around. His eyes met his opponent, who was now slowly getting up with the help of the ropes.
John Cena was staring back at him with a blank expression, but Randy knew him so well, and he knew that this wasn't over. He knew that the feud with John was not over. He never wanted to start one in the first place. Damn the storyline, damn the boss, damn everyone...except John Cena.
Sighing again he walked to the locker room. He needed a shower so badly, he felt sticky all over. He was glad that the room was empty, so he could use it all for himself. But his happiness was short lived. The door burst open and he heard heavy footsteps. Well, there goes his moment of peace.
"Bloody Orton," the voice exclaimed.
Randy's ears perked up at the voice. He was more than surprised. He ignored what the man said and concentrated on what the man was doing here. It was obvious that John did not know that Randy was here with him. John had his own locker room. So what was he doing here?
"Doesn't know who he is messing with! I'm John FREAKING Cena!" John bellowed.
Randy chuckled softly at the man's childish out bursts. Then, realizing what he had done, he quickly escaped to the bathroom grabbing a towel on the way. He thanked the guy mentally, who left the door open to the bathroom, and once he was inside he didn't bother to shut it since the old door made loud creaks even if it moved an inch.
Randy removed his boots and tights and stepped into the shower, which he turned on slowly so John wasn't able to hear it. He sighed in relief as lukewarm water hit his head and then flowed down his back, reducing his inner stress. He turned toward the wall and placed his palms on it, and rested his head. A few seconds later he applied gel and rubbed his skin, removing baby oil and sweat. That's when he felt a knot twisting in his stomach. He knew the sensation, almost too well for his own good.
John halted in the doorway just as he spotted a familiar figure in the shower. His breath hitched as he stared at the man, as the foam from shower gel dripped down from his body with water revealing heavily inked arms and the spider-legs like tattoo on the shoulders. His back was facing John, but he recognized the man very well. Just seconds ago he was cursing this man, but now John was glued to his spot, awestruck by the man in front of him.
John watched as The Viper's back muscles twitched as he rubbed his skin. It was almost...attractive. Who was he kidding? Heck the man was certainly attractive, there was no one to deny it, not even himself. He noticed Randy's body suddenly tense, as if he sensed John was right behind him. John didn't even try to hide his stare as Randy turned around to face him. The tension between them was so thick, John was sure that he could cut it to pieces with a knife. For a full minute, they stared at each other. John's face frowned, Randy's face a blank mask.
Now that he was facing him, John had the perfect opportunity to check Randy out. John was first lost in Randy's icy blue eyes, then he moved on to his high cheekbones, thin lips, broad shoulders, fine arms, rock hard abs, the 'V' shape going right down to his...
Realizing what the fuck he was doing, John tore his eyes from the mouth watering body in front of him and stormed to a stall. Cursing inwardly, he stripped down and entered the shower. He was too confused to enjoy the sensation of water against his body. He couldn't believe himself. For over a month, he has had been fighting with Randy, the man had been getting on his nerves. But now all of a sudden John was checking him out!
John heard the bathroom door slam shut and he decided to wait until Randy leave out of the locker room before coming out. He couldn't risk another encounter with The Viper.
Randy paced the room back and forth only in a towel, his calmness broken and muscles twitching with tense. He quickly dressed up and grabbed his bag, jogging out of the locker room. What the HELL was back in there? He was hundred percent sure that John Cena was checking him out. Sure, he had no problem with it, but it was John Cena who checked him out. John Cena. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned in frustration.
Reaching out to his bag, he searched for the cell phone. He had arrived to the arena with Cody from the hotel, and now he needed a ride. He had carelessly left his wallet in his hotel room, so taking a taxi was out of the scene. And he had left his cell phone in the locker. Groaning he stormed back into the locker room, hoping Cena had left.
But he was wrong.
The time he chose to enter the room was the worst, as he saw John removing the towel from his hips. Cursing, he turned around and started to go to his locker. At the sound of cursing John glanced back and saw Randy just as he averted his gaze.
"The FUCK, Orton!" he shouted.
Randy rolled his eyes and ignored the muscled man.
"Don't be so dramatic Cena, it's not like you haven't seen me or I haven't seen you naked before."
"It doesn't mean anything, Orton, so don't fall head over heels for it." John said, not knowing that he was hitting one of Randy's sore spots. Slightly grimacing, Randy was able to keep his voice even.
"Who said it does, Cena?" Randy took his cell phone and nearly slammed the locker door off its hinges. He could not deal with this man anymore. Randy knew John didn't say it on purpose, but it still hurt so bad.
Once he was at the car park, he looked around. No sign of Cody's car, and only Cena's Mustang was left. He knew perfectly well that he wasn't going to get a ride from Cena, and Randy wouldn't risk it. He didn't dare be near John again, not today. He tried to Cody's phone and cursed at the beeping sound which indicated that Randy's phone was low on battery. What a day. It was a twenty minute walk from the arena and it was nearly eleven at night. He started walking, since there was nothing else to do. After ten minutes or so, he saw Cena's car racing past him.
Snorting, he continued his walk, only to bump into something hard. He rubbed his nose and looked up, ready to rip the guy's throat out. His heart sped up at the sight of the huge man in front of him, tattoos and piercings pointing out the fact that this man is not someone who should be messed around with. Heck, Mark Henry was better than this man.
"Hey boys! Look what I found!" he said, crossing his arms over his chest and cocking his head to the side. Randy shivered under the man's gaze. He knew he could handle him somehow, but the thought was crushed when another two men appeared from his behind, who were not so large as the first, but was large enough to take Randy down.
"Pretty little thing, eh?" the one to the right said, with an annoying cocky smirk on his lips which his eyes roaming up and down Randy's body. Was he gonna be raped, like some little school girl? No. He was going to fight back, even till death. He dropped his bag to the floor and brought his clenched fists up, ready to beat the life out of the thugs. The giant chuckled humorlessly while the others snickered.
"Braver than seems to be eh? We just want some money. Give it all and you can go." He said raising hands up like to surrender. Randy didn't dare to let his guard down just because the men said they only wanted money. The third one walked over as Randy backed up and he picked up Randy's bag. As he searched the bag, Randy saw the disappointment on his face as he didn't find Randy's wallet.
The man shook his head at the other two. The large one groaned and motioned for the one beside him. "Search him, Tony, he must have 'em in his pocket."
In a flash Randy was being held up from behind and Tony was searching for the money. His hands roamed all over his body and stopped at his back pockets. Tony squeezed his ass, earning a surprised yelp from Randy.
"He sure gotta nice ass, Dean. But no money." Tony licked his lips.
Finally, rage taking over him, Randy kicked the man's crotch as hard as he can. He struggled to get free, but the man behind him was obviously stronger than him.
"You, son of a bitch! I'm gonna teach you a good lesson!" Tony bellowed as he punched Randy over and over. Dean suddenly came up behind Tony and held his hand in a strong grip as he tried to land another punch on Randy's already bruised cheek.
"Enough Tony! We searched for what we wanted, and he got nothing. Let's go!"
"Yeah, you motherfuckers better leave before you'll end up in heaven."
They all turned around at the new voice, Randy barely lifting his head up to see the guy. John Cena stood only a few feet away from them, pointing a gun at them. Randy was immediately set free, and the three thugs were running for their lives.
"Thank you," was the only thing Randy whispered before collapsing to the ground.